Those Who Stop the Rain
by Harueh
Summary: Formerly known as "A Special Bottle of Whiskey". A collection of short stories set in between Girls Frontline's main story.
1. A Special Bottle of Whiskey

"Sigh…" he exhaled tiredly, as if wishing that breath would remove his fatigue. His velvet red blazer felt heavy on his shoulders and his dark black slacks were like ropes binding his legs yet despite this, it wasn't his body that was bothering him.

It would've been easy to just go back to his quarters and hit the sack. Nightfall had already gone and passed bringing along with it a cold chill. No one would've blamed him if he just went back to sleep with all these conditions yet he trudged on through the open icy air that even his blazer couldn't warm thoroughly. After all, if his hunch was right then he'd at least get rid of his slowly throbbing headache.

Passing through a dim-lit pathway, he made his way to a solid metal door. Behind it would be a dim room full of flashing monitors with documents messily sprawled all over the place. It would be an ordinary, already welcoming, sight for him with only one thing feeling out of place.

Sliding open the door, a strong cooly scent hit his nose. It was a familiar smell, one he had gotten much experience with lately, but slightly different. Before even registering it in his head, he heard someone speak past the inconsistent beeps and buzz of electronic equipment.

"Yo! Welcome back! Up for a drink?"

The voice was soft and firm. Pitched to sound feminine yet her tone and way of speaking was masculine. It felt like a mismatch yet just right for the owner of the voice. She was, after all, an oddity from the first sight.

On top of a large rectangular table at the center of a room sat a girl raising her hand. In it was a glass filled with roasted brown liquor.

The one sitting on the table where important documents haphazardly spread out looked like a beautiful young girl with long braided black hair streaked with yellow highlights. She had a carefree smile on her porcelain-like face which highlighted the captivating beauty mark under left eye; an eye with a soft shade of black which he found rather mystifying.

He could've passed her off simply as a girl sitting nonchalantly on top of confidential files, and that itself would've already looked odd, but the yellow-streaked black eyepatch covering multiple obvious scars on what was supposed to be her right eye broke that image. In it's own way it captivated his thoughts but it was the more on how she'd look without it.

He sighed visibly and audibly, trying to look annoyed, before replying.

"I assume that's what you called me here for? Just like last time?"

She hopped off the table, her dull yellow long sleeves shirt following her movements with little resistance, before trying to straighten her messy skirt.

At first glance, the best word to describe her would be sloppy. Alongside the simple black jacket with yellow insignias that covered her when she was on operations made it hard to refute. But despite that, she had a certain charm he found hard to ignore.

The smile on her face never disappeared as she picked up a large glass bottle behind her. Inside it was a liquid with similar color to the one in her glass.

"It's different this time. I've finally got my hands on some real good stuff."

She spoke like a child that just received a birthday present yet despite her demeanor, she wasn't a normal girl. The scars on her right eye gave away clues but it did not tell the whole story. Appearance or not, she wasn't even human.

A machine made for battle, she was a T-doll meant to wield firearms and engage in wars that humans found too costly to fight themselves.

And it took great effort to remind himself of that fact.

He brushed her off as he went inside the room. His red uniform blazer weighed on his shoulders so he took it off as he grabbed a rotating chair from the side of the room.

"I've told you that you're not allowed to drink here, didn't I M16?"

The girl, named after an old American service rifle that she was assigned to wield, took another glass that sat beside her and poured the liquid to pass it to him.

"You always say that yet you always give in," she replied taking a seat at the edge of the table in front of him.

He took a moment to scan where her firearm was and found it lying beside the base of the table. It was like a reminder to him about the desolate world he currently lived in. One filled with strife he wanted to block out even for just a small moment every day.

He pushed those thoughts away as he took the drink, bringing his glass to hers to a toast after replying, "That's because you pass me the drink before I could even refuse every time."

"Yet we both know you're not really complaining, Commander," she said teasingly while taking another sip of her drink.

Breathing out loud, he gave up his charade and let out a relaxed expression. It's true that he was fatigued but it wasn't his body was the least of his concerns.

As a commander for the Paramilitary Corporation, Griffon and Kryuger, his job was to command T-dolls to perform skirmishes whenever necessary. Giving out orders wasn't tough on the body but thinking of strategies and sending out T-dolls, whom mostly looked and felt no different from a human, into the frontlines took a toll on his psyche.

"So, how is this different from our usual nightly rendezvous?" he asked, making the situation sound more exaggerated, as he looked at the liquid inside the glass that M16 passed to him.

"I've finally got my hands on a bottle of Jack Daniels. Thought I'd share it with you."

Like a child proud of an achievement, she pumped her chest out as she drowned all the remaining liquor in her glass down her throat.

"That's a nice sentiment," he said knowing that Jack Daniels was her favorite drink yet his eyes couldn't miss out the bottle that had already been half empty. He chuckled a bit before teasingly continuing on, "I guess you also took the liberty of drinking most of it so I don't have to drink that much?"

"Well, you took a while to come back so I just had to take a taste. Sangvis causing more trouble than normal?"

Her look became a bit somber as she looked straight at him. He was almost taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor but, in hindsight, it should've been a normal thing for her to say.

Sangvis Ferri was their daily enemy. A year ago they were a well known manufacturing company, producing high quality combatants for military operations. That was until their T-dolls suddenly went rogue and started to execute everyone on sight. It wasn't that long since he helped rescue her from one of those T-dolls called Intruder.

"Nah, it's not that," he nonchalantly waved her off before taking a sip on his glass. The cool liquid passed through his throat, leaving its warmth and a strong taste on his tongue.

"I just requested some documents from Miss Helian and Miss Persica," he continued as he offhandedly thought of his superior officer and the lead researcher of 16Labs, the company involved in making T-dolls.

"Oh?" M16 refilled her glass halfway through. "Confidential stuff?"

"Ah no, it's mostly about Sangvis Ferri's T-dolls."

He took another swig at his drink, emptying up his glass and letting the roasted brown liquid's effects take some effect, before finishing his sentence.

"I wanted to familiarize myself with them, especially with the rise of their T-dolls with emotion modules."

Emotion modules, he recalled while nursing the slowly gripping influence of the alcohol, were the installed chips that gave T-dolls their personalities and ability to act like a human. In a way, he wished G&K didn't have it in their combat T-dolls.

At least he would have an easier time sending the girls out to the frontline.

"What?" she breathed out returning to her casual self. "Still not used to everything?"

"It's not a matter of getting used to it or not." He exhaled deeply, thinking back to his previous enemy encounters.

The past notion that all Sangvis T-dolls were emotionless killing machines couldn't hold up anymore. One of his mental pillars was in danger of crumbling which left a chill in his spine.

As cold as the words he heard Intruder say in the playback recording, the shot of whiskey made its presence known down his throat as he downed another glass straight up.

"It pays to know your opponent and how they think."

"Hoh, seems like we're getting into it," she replied with an elated tone after he poured himself another half a glass. Her visibly happy face suddenly switched to a deep concern though as she continued, "But that's not what I meant. I meant about us T-dolls going into battle. I can tell that you're getting things confused. You should treat us as tools. It would be a lot easier that way."

He leaned back on his chair and let the ever growing grip of the alcohol wrap around his head. For a moment, he wondered if M16 was also feeling the same lightheadedness that he was but that thought immediately got fuzzy and out of focus.

Despite his fading thoughts, he knew M16 was right. T-dolls aren't humans and, no matter how much they cry in pain, they weren't as fragile as he was. Yet, despite that, he couldn't easily just follow what she said.

He should've been used to drowning out the noise already but it always got harder as time went by.

With all the inner conflict going on in his head, he wasn't able to notice his words slipping past as he exhaled, "Doesn't help when you guys feel like human beings."

"But we're not humans."

The cold, logical yet unreasonable, reply broke his reverie. The source of it looked straight at him without the laid-back alcohol loving personality she normally had. She was serious about it, as serious as her words that followed.

"You have to remember that."

Her words were firm, like a commander giving his men orders, yet gentle at the same time. It felt more of a concerned warning than a reminder. Like an older sister giving her younger brother a stern lesson.

In the past week that he had spent time with M16, he grew to know her past her carefree drunkard self. He didn't understand how a T-doll's personality module worked and whether their memories and experiences helped shape it but she wasn't just someone who breezes through her job and drinks her worries away.

"Thanks for your concern but I'll be fine," he said directing a smile to her. Whether it looked natural or showed his fatigue, he didn't know.

"Well then, let's drink some more!" she energetically replied as while downing her own glass seemingly without a care in the world.

* * *

"Hey commander, mind telling me why you joined Griffon?" asked M16, breaking the short silence that settled as they finally finished the second bottle of Jack Daniels that she had hidden away.

She had already unbuttoned her long sleeves, probably because the alcohol made her feel too warm, which revealed a dark green tank top. Although he argued against it with her earlier, as he felt she was being too unguarded with him, she won out in the end and he just had to accept it.

"Hmmm," he trailed off as he tried to clear his head.

He wasn't a heavy drinker so the buzz of the alcohol was acting strongly in his senses. The person in front of him glowed under the dim light. For a moment, she looked like one of those battle maidens from the stories he heard as a kid. With porcelain-like skin reflecting the light off elegantly as they gracefully fought through the battlefield, they ended up being both a symbol of beauty and power.

But those were just stories; myths from a long lost era. In front of him was someone who lives in the present; someone who still struggles and fights. Whether it looked elegant did not matter to her as long as she finishes the job. It was also her who he should be looking at.

"Would you be disappointed if I said I did it for the money?" he managed to reply after sobering up his thoughts by focusing on his breathing.

"Not really. I know Griffon pays and a lot of commanders also join for the same reason. I just thought you had other reasons."

Like usual, M16 still looked unfazed. At first he wondered if alcohol even affects T-dolls but after a while he just ended up accepting for a fact that he was really no match to her when it comes to drinking.

"Well, there is one other reason. Wanna take a guess?" he said with a playful smile.

"Fame? I know some commanders want to look like a hero of some sort and you seemed so comfortable with your command for a newbie that I thought you had experience already."

"A war hero huh…" he replied dejectedly as he looked back up the ceiling.

Her response wasn't bad. He knew there were only a few reasons why someone would take on a military-like career; one of the biggest reason would be fame and glory. Her response wasn't out of place at all but he couldn't hide his displeasure at the thought.

"No, it's not that. I hate war," he said while purging the rising pit in his stomach.

"Oh?" M16 spoke out in surprise. She looked at him with widened eyes as if he just said the biggest secret in the world.

"Did I say something weird?"

"No," she replied warily while shifting her gaze to the ground. "It just-"

"Makes less sense why I'd join a paramilitary company?" he interrupted as a derisive smile was formed on face.

The veiled contempt wasn't directed at the confused girl in front of him though. It was of the banality of the answer and his inability to change it. Yet because of its simplicity he can see a common ground between the two of them.

A common ground that was his other reason for fighting battles he did not enjoy.

He turned to look at the wall full of panels of monitors as he let his thoughts simmer. Different visual were being displayed. Some were surveillance cameras displaying areas close to hostile territory. Others were virtual map readings with points of interest and suggested tactical routes to engage it. For the past month, this was the place where he observed the T-dolls under his command fight and struggle.

"T-dolls aren't all too different from humans," he continued, shifting his gaze back to M16.

The beauty mark under her sole visible eye captivated him for a bit. If things were just a bit more different they could've been sharing a drink as friends, maybe even more.

Things weren't that simple though.

Yet despite the reality of the situation weighing down on him, the connection he had with her still existed.

"I don't see much of a difference between you and me," he started. "We both have emotions, have preferences, and we both feel pain. Don't you agree?"

M16 showed unamusement at his words as she replied in a listless manner, "You're making things far simpler than they really are."

He chuckled a laugh as he heard her response. She was right; he simplifying things too much but that wasn't enough for him to let go of his stance.

After all, his answer to her question was also far too simple.

"What I'm saying is that we both have our similarities. That also means the same for our abilities and limitations. Whether it'd be T-doll or human, we both have things only we can do. And like how there are T-dolls who can only do one thing, there are also humans who are only suited for one job."

For a moment, he closed his eyes as if to digest his own thoughts before continuing.

"Whether that distinction differs for a T-doll with a preprogrammed AI or a human with a predisposition to things doesn't matter. You just end up doing the only thing you can do."

M16 sighed as her head slumped with an exaggerated manner.

"Each time we drink together you end up looking more and more shady, Commander. I'm doubting whether it's a good idea to leave my sisters in your hands now."

To him, the concept of family felt out of place coming from her. Even to some humans, the concept of a family is in vain yet she was holding it firmly. Family, to her, was something beyond sharing the same blood. Whether this was also a preprogrammed response, he didn't know nor cared about.

All he knew was that M16 cared about her three sisters dearly. She stood as guidance whenever they started doubting themselves. Perhaps this took a toll on her own psyche which led to her personality of liking alcohol.

The idea that she let down her guard only to him made him feel undeniably happy but he didn't want to show it.

"Your sisters are lucky to have you," he whispered under his breath.

"What was that, Commander? I didn't hear you there."

He exhaled as he stood up. "I said we should finish up. I have a meeting with Griffon's executives tomorrow."

M16 sighed in a disappointed manner, likely as a form of protest, but he took no heed of it as he grabbed his velvet coat which laid sprawling on top of the table.

The meeting he had the next day was an important one; important enough that the location was set to be in what they called a secret base. Even M16, who'd normally complain that she hadn't drank enough, wordlessly complied as she would be with Anti-Rain in patrolling the perimeter.

Either that or she was afraid of him telling M4, the younger sister she cared the most, about having drinking sessions.

After seeing M16 clean up the table, he started to make his way towards the door before he remembered something. It had been on his mind since the first time they met but thought it was too personal to ask.

He felt that this night might just be the right moment to ask.

"Say M16," he said turning back to her. "Can I look at you without your eyepatch?"

M16 was visibly surprised by his request. "For what reason?"

He smiled, thinking back to their conversation just a few minutes back. "Would you be disappointed if I said I just wanted to see you without it?"

M16 sighed, seemingly out of resignation.

"I guess I owe you this much since you did manage to rescue me and my sisters," she replied as she undid the eyepatch to reveal the scars of her past.

Every soldier has their share of marks from their battles but T-dolls are different. Every blemish and injury they received could be fixed and embellished. Yet, even with though G&K surely had the technology and resources, M16 still had her scars.

Whether it served as a reminder to her or just a random decision she made, he didn't know. What he did know was it did not look the slightest bit unsightly. Nothing looked more dignified to him; nothing more human.

It was enough to bring a genuine smile of satisfaction to his face.

"As I expected, you still look beautiful even without it."


	2. Past, Present, and Future

The noise of shouts and gunfire started to become a droning hush as his consciousness slowly tuned it out. In front of him was a wall attached with multiple monitors displaying different battlefields full of fire and carnage. It contrasted the numbness he felt from the cold air conditioning.

If it was a couple of months ago the image of young women putting themselves into the line of fire would've, at the very least, made him flinch but right now his mind was calm.

Maybe even a bit too calm.

It made him unsettled at how adaptive the human mind is.

Whether getting used to things was good or bad, he wasn't sure but a certain sentence from a certain girl with a striking black eyepatch on her right eye floated to the top of his head.

"'But we're not humans…' huh," he whispered under his breath as if trying to reenact that scene. "Even so, I'd like to keep a small part of my innocence if it's possible."

After giving him a mission to eliminate potential Sangvis threats that would endanger their counterattack, the bubbly logistics officer had left.

There was no one else in the room, scattered with combat reports everywhere, so his voice was drowned out by the sounds of the hectic battlefield. In this small, isolated, room all he could do was look at the flashing rectangles on the wall showing him how his command was going.

It was all too easy to think back to that girl and her words. His mind would've wandered off to the occasional drinking sessions he had with her, too, but the small throbbing pain from his chest and legs kept him from doing so.

The pain reminded him that he was sending off soldiers that looked like young women into the battlefield. It reminded him of his responsibility but it also proved to him something else; something more important.

It meant that he was still alive.

"Commander?" a soft voice broke his reverie.

He turned around to see a young girl with long black hair highlighted by green streaks. The light gray apparel she wore on top was shredded and there was barely a trace of her beige military coat, which she normally tied to her waist. Her thighs were also exposed due to the damage to her clothing, revealing some dark spots of dirt and grime that covered her ceramic-like complexion.

In the dark irises of this young girl he could see worry and confusion. It was something he was supposed to be used to but the years had dulled his edge.

And maybe it was for the better that it did.

After all, if he wanted to maintain his humanity, maybe this was the only way.

"What's the status, M4?" he called out her name as the noise of gunfire and chaos started to fill his ears once more

"Yes sir, we finished sweeping the area and found no other Sangvis threats in the vicinity," she replied with a pause.

Her voice was firm but he could sense a bit of distress in it.

He didn't need to ask why.

"We didn't find any information about AR15's whereabouts as well."

"I see," he breathed out heavily, the subtle pain in his body reminding him of the situation.

The one standing in front of him, looking like she was forcing down her uneasiness with a facade of calm, was not human. Her robotic right arm was a giveaway. The damaged beige assault rifle she was named after slung by her side, giving more credence to the fact.

She was a T-doll; a mechanized android equipped to fight battles humans couldn't risk partaking in.

And he was a commander; the one who gives them the orders to march through the line of fire to eliminate enemy threats. The one who should be responsible for their well-being while they were under his command.

The one who should notice when one of them was acting differently.

He took a good look at M4's haggard appearance then sighed. In front of him stood a troubled young girl with clouded eyes full of doubt and apprehension. The distinction between human and T-doll didn't matter. In the end, she was just a young girl trust into a situation she couldn't handle.

He walked closer to her as his hand moved forward, seemingly by impulse, to rest on her head. The T-doll, who was a head shorter than him, was surprised and started to look up at him.

"Um… Commander?" she spoke meekly.

She looked straight at him with bewilderment in her eyes but if she asked why he was doing it, he didn't have a clear answer. It might be an impression from the past or just his overall insecurity about comforting someone but it felt like this was the best he could do.

He even thought if ever the overprotective older sister, who would consistently tell him in drunken stupor to never touch her sisters, would come to see this, she wouldn't have minded.

"You're doing fine," he said almost unconsciously.

She looked at him completely lost at his words.

"AR15 running away isn't your fault."

M4 dropped her gaze at his words.

He sighed, not knowing what to tell her. Had her older sister been in his place, he wondered if she could've done better.

He took off his hand from her head and just started to say what was on his mind.

"I'll be honest. When I first saw you, standing beside the lifeless body of Executioner, I thought you were an emotionless robot that could do anything the mission needed you to do."

M4 stirred and looked back at him; her expression unreadable.

He, too, didn't know here he was going with it as well but he continued on.

"I was still fairly unfamiliar with T-dolls that time. I found it hard to send out young women to the battlefield so I thought of you guys as infallible weapons as a way to make myself feel better. I thought you were fully capable as long as it was possible."

He trailed off for a moment, a small and subtle smile appearing on his face for a moment as the image of a black haired woman appeared in his mind. Her smug smile looking more intimidating with the eyepatch on her right eye; all the while being captivating with the beauty mark under her left. If she ever heard him say what he did, he thought she'd think she was right.

"But I was wrong. T-dolls aren't only calculating machines. Just like humans, they have emotions, ideas, and flaws. They make mistakes but own up to it and try to do better. Do you know how I learned that?"

His voice was firm and clearly directed at the T-doll, all too similar to a him, whose attention he had hooked.

As she noticed his question directed at her, M4 shook her head as a response.

"A machine would've asked for help. At that moment, beside the defeated enemy you yourself outsmarted, you asked to be saved. That's why I said you're doing fine."

She looked back down and remained silent again.

He didn't know if it was because she was thinking of his words or looking for faults in it. He hasn't fulfilled his promise his promise to her yet. Things have gotten further complicated with the current events too. It took a lot in him to keep thinking that everything is still fine yet he could easily say it to the uncertain T-doll in front of him. He wouldn't have been surprised if she had called him a hypocrite because he would have if he was in her position.

But she didn't. She wasn't blaming him, she was blaming herself. That might be why he could easily empathize with her.

After a few moments of quiet, M4 finally looked up and softly asked, "Do you think emotions make us flawed, Commander?"

"No, I don't.," he replied firmly. "It's true that emotions make us act illogical or feel overwhelmed but they are also a source of motivation. They become a reason why we want to be better."

He looked at M4's eyes and she held his gaze for a moment before he continued, "They're the reason why we end up wanting to save those we care for, right?"

"What do I do if it feels impossible?" she asked in a shaky voice. With eyes that look like she was looking for salvation, she asked him, "What if I'm not reliable enough?"

She looked straight at him like a desperate child looking for someone to lean on. It was a stark contrast to the front she'd normally put up. Although she always looked shaky and lacking in confidence, she never voiced out her insecurities.

She always wanted to look reliable even in the face of adversity.

Ever since he'd been briefed of the situation after recovering from the ambush, he had been watching over M4. From his perspective, she had been doing well holding together her team all the while completing her missions.

On the outside, it looked like there was no problem at all.

He would've believed the same thing too had he not been in a similar situation before. And he understood that there was more to her question than what she said.

Being a leader means taking responsibility, not just of the mission but of its members. Their lives end up being on the leader's account.

That responsibility hanging on one person's shoulder is tiring. Sometimes, it felt like carrying the whole world.

"You know, there were people who got hurt because of me," he started to speak as he closed his eyes, trying to stir his memories.

In the darkness, the scent of singed clothing and gunpowder started to fill his nose. The noise of the bleeping monitors and equipment faded out and was replaced with the loud crackle of gunfire and ghastly screams.

"Because I was inexperienced."

The pain in his chest became a pressure crushing his tired lungs because of his heavy breathing. His hands felt a heavy and cold weight to it; an intricate weapon he was very familiar with.

"Because I was careless."

He opened his eyes and the mundane room he stood commanding his troops had changed into a city of ruin engulfed by flames and rubble. Blood and debris littered the barren dusty streets as corpses were littered messily. The bodies of children and adults stared at him judgingly contrasting the silhouette of a young woman who was facing away.

"Because I was unreliable."

He closed his eyes again and breathed deeply. The weight in his hands disappeared and the smell of blood had dispersed.

"Even now, I still make mistakes."

When he opened his eyes again and his vision changed to a similar city of ruin yet this time it wasn't humans that were on the ground screaming in pain. Bodies of T-dolls were by his feet; their lifeless eyes staring at him with condemnation.

"I still cause pain to those I care about."

He closed his eyes again and when he opened it he returned to the same old room with the fragile looking T-doll staring at him expectantly.

"But I still keep going."

He placed his hand back on her head and gently caressed it. The T-doll in front of him looked fragile enough that she looked like she would break under his touch.

As his memories completely faded away, he smiled at M4 and finished his thought. "We both need to keep going to protect and save those we care about."

He removed his hand and stepped back. He didn't know if his words would help her or if she thought they were pointless words spouted by an ignorant human but the smile she returned after he let go of her looked a bit lighter.

"Thank you, Commander," she said, her eyes seemingly a bit clearer now, before she turned back and headed out.

Looking at her back, still looking a bit shaky and unreliable, as she left, he was reminded of himself. He wondered if he was still the same or whether he could protect a young girl's promise now.

As the doors closed, he thought back to M4's request when they first met and sighed.

"'Save us'… huh."


	3. Defiance

There was a subtle, unsettling feeling looming around. It was menacing and oppressive. Like a chain slowly inching away towards his ankles, trying to steal away his freedom. Like a fog slowly engulfing him with its cold ghastly air, chilling his body to the core while slowly distorting his vision and thoughts until a single sight was laid bare.

The image of a young child weeping helplessly as the things he thought important to him were being taken away.

It shouldn't have been this way. Not again.

Maybe there was an error in the report. It was a chaotic situation. No one knew clearly what was happening, after all.

Or maybe this was part of an elaborate plan. She wasn't dumb. A T-doll like her wouldn't make foolish decisions on a whim, especially not her.

Not ST AR-15 of all T-dolls.

But he couldn't fool himself any longer. He knew deep inside that despite all his years of experience, nothing had changed.

He was still that child, grovelling on the dirt unable to protect what he held dear.

The cold grip of the dark haze that surrounded his vision thickened as a pit was formed in his stomach. A vast emptiness that was slowly engulfing him from his core while the icy chains wrapped around his torso tightly as it kept crawling up.

A chain he thought he had been free of for years. A chain he thought he could easily break off the next time around.

The chain of fate that he simply ran away from had him in its grasp once again.

The dark haze made it hard to breathe as the chains slowly encroached his throat. He couldn't do anything, not even think properly.

ST AR-15 was a capable T-doll, an elite. She wasn't one to go down easily. It meant that she had been pushed to the edge. It may have been seen as her own weakness but he was the one in charge of overseeing her.

Did he really miss the signs?

Was it really that impossible to stop?

Had he been more attentive, would things have changed?

Why couldn't he protect even one single promise from a scared little girl?

The frigidly numbing links of the chain had reached his throat and was slowly making its way around it. His head had become light and all the sounds from the chaos and commotion had dulled into a hush.

At that moment, amidst the thick icy miasma and the frosty steel bindings, in that space where outside noise had lost all of its influence, he wouldn't have minded fading into its obscurity.

But that would just be running away.

If he wanted to show that he had changed, that he had gotten stronger, he couldn't just turn his back this time. Time couldn't be reversed but he could prevent further disaster.

A tower had already fallen, hitting others on its way down. If he didn't do anything, everything might cascade into a rain of dust and debris.

But could he do it?

Could he do anything?

He, who had failed in the past and in the present?

He, who did not see the warning signs before the disaster?

What right did he have to think that he could save them?

The bindings that gripped his throat constricted it. As if squeezing the life out of him. But, as much as he'd like to get absorbed in the atmosphere of hopelessness, he had to resist. He had to fight back despite the cold freezing his skin and the helpless pit engulfing his very being.

The stakes were far too grand for him to be overwhelmed by his imaginary shackles.

He wasn't the protagonist in this story, though. If he was, he'd have been able to do something aside from watching over the combat grid map while thinking in circles.

But regardless, he needed to think. He could kick himself all he wanted but that wouldn't change anything. If he really wanted to believe that he wasn't the same child that could only cry and weep, he needed to prove it.

He needed to prove that the past wasn't repeating itself, even if he had no idea what to even do.

It wasn't logical. It didn't make any sense but humans, much more so than T-dolls, are rarely logical creatures.

That was a fact that he learned early on in life; from the most mundane question a child could ever ask.

* * *

 _Arrogant, that was his first impression of her. Hungry for glory and achievements; eager for praise and distinguishment. It was as if her striking pink long hair and side ponytail was a show of defiance amidst the battlefield of drab black and brown; the purple streak seeming like a sign of her own individuality._

 _It wasn't the first time he'd seen personalities like that. Some of them became heroes; most of them died namelessly. All of them still got swept in the bowels of history._

 _She looked like she was no different from those delusional protagonists who let their hubris get the better of them._

" _Commander, the perimeter has been swept. All that's left is a small contingency of sangvis concentrated in this small area," a voice echoed through the hollow room as a young girl walked towards him, her bright pink hair swaying with her movements._

 _She pointed to a spot on the interior layout on his hands; the interior layout of the building they had been sieging for a while now. It was at the center of the layout, enclosed in a small rectangular area with one small gap to indicate the room's entrance point._

" _Well done, AR15," he replied to the T-doll who looked all too much like a human. The only suggestive detail that she wasn't would be the silver and black weapon in her hands; a weapon she was named after._

 _He shifted his gaze from AR15's visage of a casual attire of bright colors so unfit for a tactical operations unit to the map in his hands. The area she had pointed to was a large storeroom located in an underground area of the rundown high-rise they were in._

" _Do you think we should go attack it now?" he asked her as he mulled over certain scenarios in his head._

" _No, we've probably overstepped our boundaries already. We should let the ones from sector 7 finish this," she replied firmly with a pause before continuing her response. "Besides, there's no need for unnecessary injuries. We've been going at it for hours now. I'm sure the others would like to catch their breath for a bit."_

" _Agreed," he responded, giving her a look of approval._

 _Her logic was sound and he also didn't want to push beyond what they were hired to do._

 _They were only contractors in the situation. Their losses were theirs while the responsibility hung over their necks. There was no need to risk anything else._

 _He instinctively reached out to his left chest area but didn't find his communication module. The commander in charge of sector 7, in her paranoia of the enemy tapping into their lines, required them to perform the operation without it. He had to command the field the old fashioned way._

" _Okay AR15, tell your team to keep boxing them in until our client decides to swoop in and steal the credit," he sarcastically remarked, his voice showing the massive stretch of the area he stood on by echoing out his command in repeat._

" _Yes sir!" she replied as she ran back out to where her teammates were, the sound of her footsteps reverberating throughout the entire silence of the room._

 _The T-doll, who would persistently ask him when her turn was during operations, wasn't all guts and glory. In actuality, she was very considerate of her teammates and had a strong sense of responsibility. She knew when to restrain herself, a trait most hero aspirants never get to learn._

 _Those qualities weren't something you'd understand from a single glance._

 _He took his eyes off the back of the young woman whose pink hair swayed with her movements to survey his surroundings. It was a wide expanse for a structure; one with multiple small support beams and high ceilings. The dilapidation was visually obvious with certain segments of the ceiling full of holes and craters showing the next floor, or even the clear sky._

 _Yet despite so, the building stood firm enough to handle a firefight. Its structural integrity didn't seem to have diminished throughout the years of wear and war. Granted they made sure to avoid the use of explosions but the fact that despite its decrepit state, it still firmly held its ground._

 _He walked forward, noticing the concrete floor's haphazard cracks and disrepair. Some slabs of stone were sticking out askew, showing the massive thickness of the material used. Some of them had cracks ranging from thin lines running from one end to another to massive splits forming a fissure on the ground. Some of the fissures were sunken enough that a small man could easily fit inside._

 _He kept moving slowly, his small footsteps making a droning, almost hypnotizing, rhythm as he eyed the ground's puddles of light streaming from above._

 _His vision was drawn to a particularly big circle of light illuminating a large area on the ground. His eyes traced the beam up to the high ceiling to see a huge hole peeking out to the sky. From where he stood, he could easily see the parts of the dark concrete building that still crept towards the sky, albeit now being askew instead of straight._

 _The view brought his memories back to the past._

 _When he was a kid he didn't understand why people made buildings tall. From his childish perspective, he thought it was dumb and dangerous. After all, the higher you are the harder the fall._

 _Looking back at it now, he couldn't fault himself for thinking that. It was a lesson almost anyone learns eventually. Humans aren't made to fly. They're not like other animals who can land from high places with little to no injury too._

 _A child quickly learns what hurts them and will equate that experience to danger so to avoid it. That's how common sense is developed._

 _With that in mind, seeing large stone structures that try to touch the clouds felt all the more foolish to his young self._

 _All the adults told him technical reasons like economics and land maximization. He understood them now but back then they seemed to be more like excuses than actual reasons._

 _There was someone, though, who told him something different._

 _Something that stayed in his mind even if his memory of the person has been muddied by his own guilt and regret._

" _Commander, I'm back," a familiar sharp voice broke his reverie as a pink haired girl appeared in front of him._

 _She arrived so abruptly that he was unable to change his expression to greet her and instead gave her a look that she most likely interpreted as disconcerting._

" _Wh-what is it? Commander, what are you looking at? Please don't tell me it's my trademark and clothes again!"_

 _She spoke so flusteredly that, despite how she obviously controlled her exclaim, the room echoed her frustration as if it was its own thoughts as well._

 _With her remark, he was able to snap out of his thoughts._

 _Seeing the pink haired girl, who would normally put up a strong proud front, looking embarrassed while talking about her clothes and trademark in the middle of a combat operation felt so surreal that he couldn't help but laugh._

" _Wha- Commander!" she responded irately as his reaction didn't help clear the misunderstanding._

" _No, it's not that," he calmly told her after finishing his laughter. "I just remembered something and was thinking about it just now."_

 _The pink haired girl diverted his thoughts away for a moment but having to explain what happened made his memory resurface again._

 _The blurry face of the woman who took care of him appeared. They were looking at a tall concrete structure that he thought was completely foolish._

" _Say, AR15," he addressed the pink haired girl who had just grasped the misunderstanding. "Why do you think humans build tall buildings?"_

 _AR15 opened her mouth to respond but before she could even let out a single word, a loud noise rang out, followed by a shockwave strong enough to knock both of them down to their knees._

* * *

Panic makes haste. Haste creates mistakes. Mistakes lead to regrets. It was a cycle he was familiar with already and something he would be doing again if he didn't think things through.

Even if the entire world felt like it was burning down, he still had to make sure he didn't destroy what remained while putting out the fire.

Or at least made sure whatever remains doesn't collapse on him.

He had to take back control of himself; he had to calm his emotions.

It would've been more convenient if he could've let go of them but that was a fragment of his humanity he refused to part with.

He took a breath, letting the air flow smoothly through his tired lungs, as he surveyed his surroundings. He wasn't in a battlefield. He wasn't surrounded by bodies. He wasn't even bound by chains or inside a black miasma of hopelessness. He was inside closed walls of steel and wires, much like an iron cage he couldn't break through. In front of him was a holographic terminal which showed the aftermath of an area where an entire building just toppled over.

It felt like a familiar scene; one where he could've easily been looking from inside out.

And maybe if he made different decisions leading up to this point, it would've been.

Struggling amidst the pile of rubble that was his own hubris and overconfidence.

He took another deep breath.

This and that were completely different.

Yet he felt a similarity. In a way, both situations were due to his own carelessness.

It was like a curse; his curse.

People are all cursed from birth in a way, whether by situation or by virtue. There are some things that will always haunt people; some things that will always hold them back.

Whether they try to crawl and struggle through despite that is what makes the difference.

Or so he'd like to believe.

Such childish thoughts normally would've been far removed from him already.

After all the battles he'd been through, he understood well enough that there is no war where somebody wins. Only a side that loses less.

But he chose to keep holding on to such childish virtues, such virtues that could potentially become another curse.

Yet he still wanted to keep it.

Even though the world was threatening to crush him underfoot.

* * *

 _The flash of white that blinded his eyes turned into a sudden darkness. The loud passing noise became a low dull lingering hum until it disappeared entirely. The wave of hot air that rammed through him dispersed into a chilling cold enveloping his body inside and out, numbing it throughout._

 _In a fraction of a second, his body had become a marionette with its strings cut._

 _But that wasn't the end of it._

 _Despite his helpless state amidst an empty darkness, there was still one sensation that reminded him he had to do something. A sensation that felt like a hailstorm pelting him relentlessly. Like a siren noisily warning him that the worst has yet to come._

 _His heart was still beating._

 _That meant blood was still coursing through his body._

 _He was still alive._

 _Like a conditioned reaction, he started to work his mind without a moment's notice. Time seemed to slow like a crawl in his heightened state of panic._

 _One second passed._

 _He worked in analyzing what had happened. Images from his memory quickly flashed in rapid succession; most being completely useless. He had to focus and filter in only the vital information. A loud explosion followed by a strong burning force of air that knocked him down. An explosion had occurred._

 _Two seconds._

 _The explosion wasn't spontaneous. The building had been rundown and devoid of any unstable elements for years before they started their operation. There was no electricity and gas lines active to cause it. Only three external factors were involved. The sector commander had no logical reason to use an explosive of that magnitude and he hadn't given such an order to his team. It all pointed to their enemy, Sangvis Ferri._

 _Three seconds._

 _Solving the "what" wasn't as important as the "how". Sangvis had a wide variety of units at their disposal, none he knew could cause an explosion that strong. Yet it still happened. It could've been an enemy type he hadn't seen yet. Sangvis could've brought in some explosive material and stashed it in the room they shrank into_ _._ _It would be a stretch but it was possible_ _._ _Occam's razor. The explosion had already occurred. Instead of speculating that special means were carried out, it would be simpler to use what they had in-hand. It wasn't that Sangvis units couldn't create an explosion. Just not to that degree. That degree was making things far too complicated. He needed to think simpler._

 _Four seconds._

 _Explosions weren't that hard to create. Bombs had been used by both his and the enemy's side already. The issue was the scale. A bomb's blast radius depended on the amount of fuel it used up. Fuel was an additive factor. More fuel meant larger explosion; regardless if they came from the same source or not. Sangvis didn't need one bomb with a massive payload. They just had to use multiple smaller ones that they could chain together. Their model Jaguars were vehicular mortars equipped with explosive rockets. They were also a mass reproduced unit that wasn't uncommon to see in engagements. They were the most likely cause but there was something wrong; something that didn't make sense._

 _Five seconds._

 _His thoughts were momentarily disrupted as he felt the coarse air recklessly pass through his nose. There was a scent of paltry dirt and dried out concrete with faint traces of burned gas. The subconscious rise and fall of his chest became slightly noticeable as the rough air pushed through. It was weak but he could feel a connection. Like fragile threads that could snap if too much force was exerted, he carefully held on to it._

 _Six seconds._

 _He shifted his focus to his extremities, ignoring the low drumming and incoherent noise slowly filling his ears. Anything from his lower body felt nonexistent. There was no reaction. His upper body, though, was different. The subtle rush of blood through his fingers, the numbed throbbing pain on his shoulders, and the vaguely cool hard sensation on his face. They were minute sensations that he would've missed out had he not put his attention to it._

 _Seven seconds._

 _He had the ability to get back up. He could've opened his eyes to check his situation; to get a better overview of the aftermath of the explosion. But that wouldn't have helped in understanding what went wrong. Getting out of this dark sanctuary that his mind had created would overload his senses and might lead him to overlook certain facts. And so, with the reassurance that his body was still working and and relatively fine, he let go of the threads and sunk back into the dark depths of his mind._

 _Eight seconds._

 _Sangvis worked as a hivemind; it was information he had learned a while back after retrieving documentation about them from his superior. As such, self preservation wasn't part of their program. As long as it served to further their cause, they won't hesitate in throwing a horde of units towards their enemy. It wouldn't be out of their character to blow themselves up if it was to protect sensitive information but in most cases they'd fight it to the end. That's the reason he found this move odd. They already lost this round. Whatever units they had left were rounded up and bottled into a single room. His command was safely out of reach if any retaliation would arrive. There was no reason to destroy whatever forces they had left when they could've tried to mount a counterattack. Nothing made sense until he remembered one piece of information. It was something he should have foreseen yet didn't. Such a detail would normally not matter but against an enemy AI without self preservation into their code, it was an important note. The enemy Sangvis retreated to that specific position by themselves._

 _Nine seconds._

 _His mind was racing. He had overlooked a mistake. It might look like a small problem but he wasn't naive enough to dismiss it as such. Sangvis might work as a hive mind but their AI was still running within logical reasoning. They wouldn't completely annihilate their forces for no reason and, more importantly, they wouldn't tactically disadvantage themselves by bottlenecking their forces into one area with no escape. He went with that lead and rummaged through his memories leading up to this situation. The map he had been looking on appeared in a ghastly holographic sight. The big red X mark on it, indicating where the remaining Sangvis forces held in, glowed eerily. He had missed one important detail on the layout. There was a circle inside the rectangular area._

 _He had been too careless._

 _Ten seconds._

 _The imaginary stopwatch ticked one last time in a belligerent manner as he grasped the threads to his body._

 _He rose up despite the rush of burning and stinging pain spiking from the ends of his extremities and opened his eyes; the sensations immediately overpowering him with blinding light and incoherent noise._

 _He forcibly moved his right arm to his chest area, the pain making it feel like a lifting a ton, as he felt for his communication module while his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness but it wasn't there._

 _The incongruous sounds slowly mellowed into a low rumble and crackle of stone and his eyes laid to the worried pink haired T-doll frantically trying to remove the huge stack of concrete rubble that was on top of his already numbed legs._

" _Commander, are you okay?" her words grated at his calibrating ears but the fact that he wasn't alone as his perceived world was fell apart by his own carelessness made him feel relieved._

 _He took a moment to process his surroundings. His legs were buried by thick concrete slabs, likely pieces of the floor above that fell due to the explosion's impact. The ground he laid on was uneven, something his sore back could easily attest to. He had noticed it already earlier but the fissures on the ground were big enough to act as a small trench._

 _It was likely that the impact of the explosion caused him to fall into the fissure and the protruding slabs of concrete acted as a buffer, shielding him from the large debris that fell from up top. It also ended up acting as a coffin which enclosed him throughout._

 _For a moment, he focused on moving his legs. They were weighed down by a lot of broken debris and was deeply buried. It took effort for him to even move it but it was still a miracle that it wasn't crushed._

" _Don't worry, I'm about to get you out soon," she continued as she tirelessly kept pulling apart some loose debris on the top of the stack. He noticed that there was a pile of rubble strewn haphazardly behind her. It was about as much as the pile that was still on top of him._

 _Her words and actions were reassuring, especially in a chaotic situation such as this, but he had to stop her by agonizingly raising his heavy right right._

 _They had no time and there was something more important to do._

" _AR15," his throat ached as dry air passed through while he spoke. "You need to go back and tell everyone to evacuate the building. Right now."_

" _But what about you, commander?" she asked back, looking at the still high pile of rubble on top of him._

" _But we're running out of time. You need to start the evacuation now. The rest of Anti-Rain and sector 7 were stationed just outside of the room. You need to make sure they're fine and they get out quickly. The area Sangvis blew up was one of the few remaining support pillars of this building."_

 _He took a quick look at AR15's expression to see if she understood the gravity of the situation._

" _They plan to bury us alive," she listlessly spoke, reaffirming his own conclusion._

 _Her words were lifeless; as lifeless as they'd all be of they didn't move now._

" _Now, go!" he spurred her on as he gave her a strong look._

 _There was a slight hesitation as she turned around but she still ran out quickly, leaving him alone to listen at the disappearing rhythm of boots hitting concrete._

 _His body was already sore and tired; his head, about to burst. His legs felt like lead and his arms like burning needles were stabbing it millions on end. He gathered his strength and tried to pull himself out but, as he moved, small fragments of rubble shifted and caused the pile to sink deeper on his feet._

 _He gave another push but it was futile. The collapsed debris had locked him in._

 _There was a massive shake. Some more parts of the floor from above shook loose and dropped near him with a massive thud. The ground's rumbling was becoming more noticeable._

 _He tried to pull himself up again, his muscles screaming and burning with every fiber._

 _It didn't budge._

 _The shaking grew a bit more violent. Some of the loose pillars started to collapse and fall on the floor, shattering in the wake and spreading dust and concrete particles in the air._

 _He was running out of time._

 _He tried another pull. His head felt like it would break apart in half. His blood felt like acid wreaking havoc through his veins._

 _He took a deep breath. His chest sank as a cold grip enclosed it._

 _This was the result of his mistake._

 _His vision started to darken as his hearing started to weaken. The burning and throbbing pain from his body started to become muted._

 _He had regarded AR15 as arrogant when it was his arrogance that got them all in this mess._

 _If this was the result of his mistake, at the very least he was able to make it right._

 _He had no idea how AR15 was handling the evacuation but he trusted her to know she'd fulfill her mission through and through._

 _It was a reassuring idea; enough to cradle his tired body to sleep as his hands loosened their grip on the threads connecting him to reality._

* * *

He exhaled deeply as he let the final strands of memory fade back into the past where it belonged. He wasn't in a battlefield, nor was wrapped around chains of steel. He was inside a dingy room with synthetic radio chatter reverberating loud while multiple glowing monitors displayed a battle that had finished.

Beside him was the normally bubbly logistics officer looking grimly at a monitor that replayed a scene of a building that collapsed. Her orange hair seemed to contrast her dark expression even though it had been hours since already.

This wasn't a matter that just affected him. Nor was he the most affected.

He wasn't the protagonist. He might not even be a knight for the protagonist.

But he was still part of the cast in this story.

If he wanted to keep his childish virtues, he needed to think of a way to help.

That might've been what pushed the normally calm and rational T-doll to do what she had. To keep her own virtues, she thought this the only way.

The weight on his shoulders that dangled at this moment was quite heavy.

Heavy enough to outweigh the cold chains of his fears.

Heavy enough to remind him of the debris on that day.

He never did hear what her answer to that question was. When he woke up after passing out from exhaustion, he was already outside and the evacuation had already finished. He heard that AR15 immediately ran back to rescue him after telling the rest of her team about the situation. She didn't disobey his command but she definitely went beyond what he had expected.

It wasn't a stretch for him to think he should've been dead by now. That said, if things had been just a little bit different, he would not be the one standing in this position in the first place.

It wasn't the time to think about alternative realities though.

Whether that was partly his fault was something he had to think for another time. All his faults and mistakes will have their own time.

But he couldn't help be reminded of a certain childish question with a simple answer. An answer he had to exemplify.

An answer, he believed, AR15 would've likely agreed on.

Why did humans build their structures towards the heavens despite the danger and impossibility?

It did feel irrational to him as a child.

But the answer he was given was rather simple. Simple enough even a small powerless child could accept.

It was to show that they can.

And in a way, T-dolls are so similar to humans that he believed they could hold the same belief.

At the very least, AR15 could.

After all, whether it was naivety, childishness, or even his own form of defiance, he refused to believe that this was the end of her story.


End file.
